


Sheriff for Sale

by fictorium (orphan_account)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Charity Auctions, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 21:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Swan Queen: At the annual fundraiser, the Sheriff is up for auction, one evening of limitless service by yours truly. What happens when Regina is the highest bidder?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Shérif à vendre](https://archiveofourown.org/works/656398) by [hotladykisses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotladykisses/pseuds/hotladykisses)



“It’s for the nuns,” Mary Margaret says as she pours the fourth glass of wine. 

“Seriously?” Emma stifles a hiccup, and thinks of an old George Carlin sketch she used to know almost by heart.  _He loves you and He needs money_! “Can’t they just… pray for the money to pay off Gold?”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret scolds as she hands over the glass. “How bad can it be? Put on the uniform, smile, and hope nobody too creepy has come into some money lately.”

“You’re only saying that because David would sell his house to bid on you,” Emma says, with a pout.

“Oh, I’m not in the auction,” Mary Margaret smirks. “He is.”

*

David looks pale and kind of clammy backstage, but Emma has to concede that the man can wear a tux. He looks handsome, in a nineties boyband kind of way. She wants to offer him words of comfort, but right now she’s trying not to sweat through her ugly khaki shirt. The tie is tight around her neck, too, and every time she walks past a mirror the whole ugly ensemble looks briefly like something a Nazi would wear. 

“Emma?” Mary Margaret calls from the side of the stage, clipboard in hand. She’s a little scary tonight, Emma has to admit.

“Do I have to?” Emma whines.

“Get out there,” Mary Margaret replies, in a tone that clearly implies she will drag Emma by the hair if she doesn’t go willingly.

“Stupid nuns,” Emma grumbles as she walks towards her public humiliation.

*

The lighting is insane for a crummy town hall event. Like, brighter than the floodlights at Fenway, for a room that’s only the size of a couple of living rooms. It means when Emma steps onto the little podium that the audience are just dark blurs to her, and maybe it’s better that way.

Sidney is the MC for the evening, and the crowd seem to be lapping up his inane banter (or maybe the heavily subsidized bar is helping with that). He says some complimentary things about Emma and her work as Sheriff, and there are definitely a few catcalls and whistles as he gives a glowing physical description. At one point Emma’s concerned about having to cross the stage and punch him, but he reins in the compliments just before it crosses all the way to creepy.

Emma’s actually relieved when he announces that the bidding will begin.

*

It’s kind of flattering how quickly she breaks the $500 mark. That she breaks a thousand soon after makes Emma fuss with her collar a little because that’s more than anyone else has gone for so far, and there’s only David and Michael left.

She’s going once…and twice…when the last voice in the world she’s expecting to hear cuts through the polite murmurs of the room and stuns them all into silence.

“Two thousand dollars,” Regina says, and the stage lighting is finally dimmed while a spotlight picks out Regina at the top table. She looks unbelievably good (and she knows it) in a strapless, dark blue evening dress that shimmers under the lights. Emma can’t help it, her mouth actually drops open. There are diamonds at Regina’s throat, and something sparkly in her elegant up-do, and it makes Emma in her polyblend uniform and supposedly pretty side-braid feel like a frump in comparison.

But seriously? What the hell is Regina playing at?

“I hear two thousand dollars,” Sidney repeats for the room’s benefit. “Any advance on two thousand for a night in the company of Sheriff Swan, upholder of law and order in our fine town? Going once. Going twice? Sold. To the Mayor!”

Emma listens to the applause, but it sounds very far away. She has no idea what to do now, but Mary Margaret waves at her from the wings and Emma stumbles towards her on heavy legs.

“I hate you,” Emma groans as she walks up to her roommate. “I will never, ever forgive you.”

“Now, now, Sheriff,” Regina says from somewhere behind Mary Margaret. “I think I’d like my night to start right now.”


	2. Chapter 2

They drive back to the Mayor’s mansion in uneasy silence. It doesn’t surprise Emma that Regina is heavy-footed on the gas pedal, especially given that the woman is driving in four-inch heels. Emma doesn’t dare switch the radio on, and so she listens to her own breathing as they zip through the almost-deserted streets of Storybrooke.

There’s no denying that Emma’s a little scared. At least a roomful of people saw her leaving with the Mayor, but a bunch of witnesses won’t mean jack if Emma ends up being dumped in the woods at midnight. 

Which is ridiculous, because Regina is (probably) not a murderer. Emma’s dreading the next few hours though (how is it only eight o’clock?) because Regina no doubt has a bunch of humiliating tasks in mind. Emma imagines that scrubbing floors with a toothbrush or disposing of rotten apples are probably on the list, and there’s a chill down her spine at what else Regina might come up with. 

They pull into the driveway, and Regina’s silk wrap slips down to expose her shoulders. Maybe it’s the silver of the wrap that draws her eye, or just weird timing, but Emma finds herself staring at the Mayor as she parks the car. 

“Well, Miss Swan,” Regina says, catching Emma in the act. “Let’s get you inside.”

*

She’s led into one of the downstairs rooms she hasn’t seen before, not that Emma’s exactly been a frequent guest in Regina’s home. Half the times she’s been on the property have been illegal searches, in fact. Emma frowns as the badge on her hip glints in the light, because the moral high ground really is pretty easy to fall from sometimes.

“Drink?” Regina asks, because of course there’s a fancy crystal decanter in here too. Being Mayor must pay pretty well, and Regina just smacks of that New England comes-from-money thing that Emma’s never been comfortable around.

“Sure,” Emma replies, unsure of where to put herself. She was ready for everything but civility, it seems. 

“Well, don’t you look nervous?” Regina quips as she hands over the glass and motions for Emma to sit on one of the fancy couches. “I bid on you to rescue you, Miss Swan.”

“R-rescue me?” Emma splutters. 

“That and donating to a worthy cause, of course,” Regina adds, sipping her Scotch with a smirk. “Until I stepped in, the highest bidder was Leroy, and I don’t think that’s wise when you have to arrest him at least twice a week. Not to mention that he couldn’t actually afford to pay out that much.”

“Right. Smart,” Emma replies. “Thank you, I guess. So uh, I can leave any time you want.”

“Oh,” Regina amends. “I still intend to get my money’s worth.”

“Great,” Emma says, swallowing hard. This is definitely going to require another drink.

*

“So,” Emma says as her glass is refilled for the third time. “Is there a reason you’re trying to get me drunk, Madam Mayor? Because I’m not planning on driving into any more signs, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“No, dear,” Regina answers, but this time when she returns with the drinks she sits on the same sofa as Emma, instead of on the one opposite. Her wrap is draped over that opposite sofa, meaning Regina and her bare shoulders are suddenly very, very close. “But you do realize what everyone else is using this auction as an excuse for, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Emma breathes unsteadily. “I mean, uh, Mary Margaret probably just blew half her savings landing David, so…”

Regina’s face darkens at those names, and Emma kicks herself inwardly for bringing them up. Some day she’s going to get to the bottom of Regina’s problem with a seemingly innocent schoolteacher, but not today.

“Wait,” Emma says as her brain catches up and then comes screeching to a halt. “Are you saying that—”

“Would it be so terrible?” Regina says, pouting a little. Emma finds her eyes drawn to the full lips, perfectly colored with that deep purple Regina’s so fond of. There’s no denying that those lips are infinitely kissable, but Emma has enough problems without her hate-crush coming to the fore. Her resolve is seriously tested as Regina’s hand comes to rest on Emma’s thigh.

“Uh…” Emma starts to respond, before her sense of indignation finally kicks in. “Wait, you think you can buy me?”

“Oh don’t be precious about it,” Regina sighs, removing her hand. “It’s a bit of fun, Miss Swan.”

“No, it’s not funny,” Emma snaps, rounding on Regina. “What, you figured because I had a tough upbringing I must have turned tricks? Or is this some way of leveraging me out of Henry’s life again? Because I don’t like what either option says about you.”

“Honestly,” Regina huffs, setting her glass down on the table. “For someone who acts so tough you have an incredibly thin skin. Who cares if you did ‘turn tricks’? I’m not judging.”

“Screw you,” Emma says, getting to her feet. She puts her glass down too, before she follows through on the impulse to shatter it against the nearest wall. “Do you know how easy it would have been for me to go down that path? I got that offer all the freakin’ time and I went hungry, and slept rough, rather than take anyone up on it.”

“If you say so,” Regina agrees, throwing her hands up in surrender. “Forget I spoke.”

“Oh, and forget you’re the kind of dried up, bitter bitch who has to pay for it? Huh? Is that what you mean?”

“How dare you?” Regina is on her feet in a flash, squaring up to Emma without even thinking about it. “Where do you get off talking to me that way?”

“Oh, careful, Regina. Your thin skin is showing,” Emma practically spits the words, her pulse racing as she resists the urge to slap the other woman. It really is nought to sixty on pretty much any emotion when Regina’s around.

“Dammit,” Regina curses, her jaw setting in that angry way she has. “This wasn’t… you should go.”

“This wasn’t what?” Emma pounces on the unfinished thought. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Regina replies, shaking her head. “Just go.”

“Not until you tell me,” Emma fires back, and she finds herself grabbing Regina’s arms, practically shaking her to make the point. Emma can feel the rage abating, and there’s that sharp curiosity she so often feels around Regina, who has the worst habit of alluding to things, or leaving half-ideas floating around that only make Emma want to know more about her. It’s part of what drives Emma so crazy around the Mayor.

“This wasn’t… how I wanted this to go,” Regina confesses, rolling her eyes, apparently at herself. She bites her lip for a second, an uncharacteristic show of uncertainty. Emma’s fascinated, and unable to release her hold on Regina as she watches.

“How did you want it to go?” Emma asks with patience, like she hasn’t just been called a teen hooker or accused Regina of being past it. “Tell me. Be honest with me, maybe for the first time since I came to this damn town.”

“I wanted to…” Regina trails off. “No, you don’t get the satisfaction.”

But Emma’s already piecing it together, her deduction skills not failing her for once. Hell, maybe they’re sharpened by booze and she should do all her policing drunk from now on, because she can hear Regina’s unspoken words as clear as crystal.

“You’re trying to seduce me,” Emma begins. “That’s why you’re dressed to the nines. It’s why you dropped two grand, knowing the only person who could compete is Gold—and he’d never give money to the nuns.”

“You think too highly of yourself, Miss Swan,” Regina retorts, trying to wriggle out of Emma’s grasp, but Emma presses her fingers harder against the bare flesh of Regina’s arms.

“And you don’t think highly enough of yourself,” Emma says softly. “Did you think that was the only way? I mean, I know we’ve had our problems, but if I thought for a second that you were interested in me…”

“You’d run,” Regina snaps. “Everyone does, dear. This way I thought I could get what I want, and we could both save face.”

“Regina, that’s pretty fucked up,” Emma says, and when she moves her hands at last, it’s to cup Regina’s face carefully. “You’re so pretty,” Emma adds, sadly. “Beautiful, really. And so very, very fucked up.”

Regina shrugs, because even she can’t deny that. When she looks at Emma this time, her dark eyes are questioning, and she’s making no attempt to pull away from Emma’s touch.

“I think I need to kiss you,” Emma confides, her voice barely above a whisper. “Will you let me?”

Regina nods, eyes slipping closed. She’s holding her breath until Emma’s lips land on hers, and the shaky exhalation just spurs Emma on. She kisses once, twice, and a third time—light and fleeting and demanding nothing. 

“Oh,” Regina whispers when Emma pulls back. Regina’s eyes stay closed, her lower lip trembling. “No.”

“You want me to stop?” Emma asks. 

“No,” Regina says, shaking her head. “Please,” is all she adds.

“Okay,” Emma says, and she’s terrified. She swallows the fear and kisses Regina again, this time parting her lips and probing gently with her tongue. Regina’s open to it, kissing back instantly, and Emma lets one hand leave Regina’s face in order to stroke the side of her neck. 

“Mmm,” Regina murmurs against Emma’s lips. “Worth every penny.”

“Hey,” Emma warns. “None of that, okay? That’s why I have to go now.”

“Why?” Regina’s eyes snap open, and her expression is sour in an instant.

“Because it can’t happen like this, five minutes after a fight. That’s not healthy, Regina,” Emma points out. 

“Oh, please,” Regina sighs. “Nothing about this is healthy.”

“But it has to be,” Emma pleads. “For Henry, if you won’t do it for yourself.”

“Leave him out of this,” Regina says, furious. “Don’t you dare use him against me.”

“Regina,” Emma says, taking Regina’s hands in her own. “No kidding, we have to do this right. And it doesn’t matter how much I want to find the zipper on that incredibly unfair dress and pull it down with my teeth…”

Regina perks up instantly at that comment, and Emma squeezes her hands.

“But falling into bed tonight won’t change anything. Not in a good way. And I really want there to be a good way, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Regina admits, her eyes still suspicious, searching Emma’s face for any hint of a lie. “But if this is some kind of game—”

“It’s not,” Emma assures her, sealing the promise with another kiss. “It’s not, okay?”

“Okay,” Regina concedes. “Don’t make me regret this. I’d hate to have to run anyone who kisses that well out of town.”

“Hey, you haven’t managed it yet,” Emma reminds her, and Regina scowls for a moment because there’s really nothing that can be done about her competitive streak.

“You’re really going home?” Regina asks quietly, her gaze fixated on Emma’s mouth again.

“Well, maybe in five minutes?” Emma offers. Regina quirks an eyebrow. “Okay, ten.”

“Much better, Miss Swan,” Regina says as she sits down, pulling Emma with her. “Now, make them count.”


End file.
